


Say Yes

by kazzydolyn



Series: bokuaka canonverse [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, BOKUAKA CANON, Canon Compliant, Chapter 331, Chapter 401, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Getting Together, Graduation, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Living Together, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Misunderstandings, POV Akaashi Keiji, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25311826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazzydolyn/pseuds/kazzydolyn
Summary: Bokuto has a lot of questions. Akaashi has a lot of trouble saying no.OR: Five times Bokuto asks Akaashi a life-changing question (and one time Akaashi has a life-changing question for Bokuto.)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: bokuaka canonverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869274
Comments: 94
Kudos: 1149





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 contains spoilers for Chapter 331 of the manga, and Chapter 5 contains spoilers for Chapter 401 of the manga.

Akaashi Keiji is nervous.

Nervous in a way that transcends typical first-day-of-school jitters. Nervous in a way that feels bigger than his body, like his chest is too full and too empty at the same time.

He makes his way to the gym where volleyball practice is being held. He’s not nervous about playing. He received a recommendation, after all. He knows the coach wants him on the team.

But will Bokuto Koutarou want him on the team?

Keiji tries to convince himself that it doesn’t matter. It’s not like Bokuto Koutarou is the _only_ reason Keiji chose to come to Fukuroudani. It’s not like Keiji spent the last few weeks practicing incessantly to ensure he’d be good enough to toss for him. It’s not like Keiji is terrified that he’ll finally meet the ace in person and be disappointed—or worse, that the ace will be disappointed in _him_.

Nope. It’s not like that at all.

When Keiji walks into the gym, his eyes go immediately to _him_. He doesn’t mean to stare, but, well, at least he’s not the only one. All the new recruits are watching Bokotuo Koutarou as he yells in excitement, running around and jumping in place. He’s the same as he was before—his love for the game so clear, so loud. He makes volleyball look _fun_ and they haven’t even started playing yet. He’s all endless energy and pure potential, tied together with a fascinating kind of charisma. 

Something loosens in Keiji’s chest and his nerves dissipate, just a little. 

The practice starts with a round of introductions. First, the current team members; then, the new recruits. Keiji takes a breath and calmly lists off his name, middle school, and the position he plays. When he finishes, he steps back in line and risks a glance in Bokuto’s direction. Wide golden eyes lock onto his. He looks away and pretends not to notice that Bokuto is still watching him.

(But oh, does he notice.)

Keiji doesn’t get to do much during practice as the new recruits are saddled with ball boy duties. So he refills water bottles, and collects stray balls, and mops the floor, and tries not to dwell on his frustration at not getting to toss a _single_ ball to—

“Hey, uhh, Akashi-kun,” someone says.

“It’s Akaashi,” Keiji automatically corrects as he glances up to see who’s speaking to him. 

It’s Bokuto Koutarou.

The other boy fidgets a little in place, a far cry from the confidence he shows on the court. “Could you please help me practice spikes for just a little bit?”

Somehow, he remembers to breathe. “…Sure.” 

He notices one of the second years giving him a concerned look, but he brushes it off.

Two hours later, he’s pretty sure he knows what that concerned look was about. Over the course of their extended practice, Keiji has learned a few important facts about Bokuto Koutarou.

First, the boy’s stamina is unreal. He just… doesn’t seem to get tired. Like, at all. Though he does get easily dejected when he botches a hit, pouting petulantly and slumping his shoulders. However, he just as easily picks himself back up when Keiji offers a few choice words of encouragement and a promise of another good set. And, when Bokuto says ‘one more toss!’ for the sixth time in a row, Keiji realizes that the ace is also a _filthy liar._

Bokuto successfully spikes the seventh ‘last toss’ while Keiji leans forward, hands resting on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. What part of this is _a little bit_? Between wheezes he manages a “…Nice kill…”

_Why_ is Keiji doing this to himself?

“AKASHI!” Bokuto hollers.

“It’s Akaashi…” Keiji corrects automatically.

When he looks up, Bokuto is beaming at him with the widest smile, eyes crinkled in delight. “Your tosses are the best!”

Oh. That’s why.

Keiji is pretty sure his brain stops functioning for a full second. He’s not used to being so directly praised by someone—especially not someone like Bokuto Koutarou—a star player, a human highlight reel. It makes him incredibly happy. 

Somehow he manages to reply with a cool, “Ah, sure.”

Bokuto pouts. “Could you sound a little more fired up…”

_Maybe if I wasn’t dying_ , Keiji almost retorts. Instead he says, “Bokuto-san, I think that’s enough for tonight.”

“Ah, right… I guess it is pretty late…” the other boy replies, deflating a little. Keiji has a wild impulse to retract his words and commit to staying longer—as long as Bokuto wants. But at this point he’s running on fumes and just physically _cannot_.

“We can practice more tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“Really?! Yeah!!” he says, perking up again. The smile is back, nearly as bright as before, and Keiji can’t help but think that he made a _very_ good decision when he chose Fukuroudani.

\+ + +

Staying late for spiking practice with Bokuto quickly becomes a part of Keiji’s daily routine. Every afternoon, Bokuto asks; and every afternoon, Keiji says yes.

(Bokuto always says ‘for a little bit’ and it’s _always_ a lie, but Keiji quickly finds that he doesn’t really mind.)


	2. Chapter 2

“I need to ask you something.”

Keiji finishes adjusting his tie and blinks up at Bokuto. This is… unusual. Not the part where Bokuto asks him something—he does that all the time, whether it be random thoughts that pop into his head ( _do you think owls dream?_ ) or not-so-subtle requests for tastes of Keiji’s lunch ( _are you gonna finish all that tamagoyaki?_ ) or even his most favored and frequent question— _will you practice spiking with me for just a little bit?_

So Bokuto asking him a question is not at all unusual. But Bokuto prefacing the asking of a question with a nervous declaration of ‘I need to ask you something’ is _extremely_ unusual.

“…Okay,” Keiji says, his mind quickly running through possible scenarios and coming up blank. “Go ahead.”

“Not now!” Bokuto says quickly. “Not here.”

They’re in the clubroom, changing back into their school uniforms after morning practice. What could Bokuto possibly have to say to him that can’t be said here and now?

“Then when?” Keiji asks, keeping his tone cool and patient, despite the nerves starting to coil in his stomach. “Where?”

“Um. Lunch!” Bokuto says like he’s just now making the decision. “Meet me behind the gym!”

“Alright,” Keiji agrees.

“Great!” Bokuto squawks, a little too loud for the small space. The few other team members still in the clubroom glance over at his outburst. “See you then! Bye!” He rushes from the room without waiting for a reply.

Keiji catches Konoha staring at him, the older boy’s eyebrow raised like he’s silently asking, _What was that about?_

Keiji shakes his head slightly as if to reply, _I have no idea._

\+ + +

Keiji can’t stop thinking about Bokuto’s question. What could it be? It’s so _frustrating_ that he no idea. He’s gotten pretty close with Bokuto over the last nine months, so he _should_ be able to understand the other boy by now. But Bokuto is an enigma, and Keiji doubts he could ever solve all of Bokuto's mysteries, even if they were to spend every single day of the rest of their lives together.

For some unknowable reason, Keiji doesn't hate that idea.

(Okay maybe he knows the reason. He tries not to think about the reason.)

He turns his attention back to Bokuto's question. He figures it probably doesn’t have to do with volleyball. Their season is over. The third years are all retiring. What’s left of their fractured team is a handful of second-years and Keiji as the lone first year who stuck around. But Keiji believes—no, he _knows_ —Bokuto can take them all the way to the top next year, if only the rest of the team will support him and trust him to do it.

So. If Bokuto’s question isn’t about volleyball, then… it must be something personal. Something personal that Bokuto wants to ask Keiji, something that makes Bokuto nervous, something he didn’t want to ask in the clubroom surrounded by the others. A potential answer floats in the back of his mind, but he won’t allow himself to consider it.

Because it’s impossible. It couldn’t be _that_.

There’s no way.

Bokuto Koutarou is not going to _confess_ to him.

…Is he?

No. Keiji is being ridiculous, letting stupid hope replace his usually faultless logic.

He wont allow himself to even think about it.

(He spends the whole morning thinking about it.)

By the time lunch rolls around, Keiji is a mess. At least on the inside. He manages to maintain his calm exterior thanks to sixteen long years of practice. Practice that almost goes completely out the window when he turns the corner to the gym and sees Bokuto pacing nervously. Keiji hesitates, and he can feel his cool exterior starting to crack. He gulps.

Bokuto Koutarou is going to be the _end_ of him, he just knows it.

“Hey, hey! ‘Kaashi!” Bokuto calls with a smile and a wave.

“Hello, Bokuto-san,” Keiji says, proud of himself for keeping his voice steady. He walks the rest of the distance to where Bokuto is standing and swallows down his nerves. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Well, it’s not really a big deal. I mean, it’s kind of a big deal. And you don’t have to say yes even though I really _really_ want you to say yes.”

Keiji swallows. It’s honestly amazing he can still hear Bokuto over the pounding of his heart.

“It’s just—well, the thing is—” Bokuto takes a deep breath, then blurts out the next part so quickly all his words blend together. “Coach wants me to be Captain next year and I want you to be my Vice!”

It takes a second for Keiji’s brain to catch up and process the words. The first thing that hits him is disappointment, followed quickly by a wave of shame. He can’t believe he almost… for a second, he really thought… God, he’s so _stupid._

Keiji doesn’t even want to think about what his face looks like right now, but from the way Bokuto’s eyebrows crease together, the other boy has reached his own conclusion.

“You don’t have to, though! If you don’t want to! I know it’s a lot to ask. It’s a lot of responsibility, and a lot of work too because you’d have to deal with me so much but—but I can’t imagine doing this without you and, and—” 

“Okay,” Keiji interrupts. He came here planning to tell Bokuto yes, and it might not be the question he was hoping for, but his answer is the same. He thinks, when it comes to Bokuto, that his answer will always be the same.

Bokuto blinks his wide owlish eyes. “Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“ _Yes_ , Bokuto-san. How many times are you going to make me say it?”

“AGAAASHIEEE!!” Bokuto yelps, jumping forward to wrap him in a big hug. Keiji lets out a shuddering breath. This is fine. It’s fine. Good, even. Being Vice to Bokuto’s Captain is a dream he never bothered to have, but it’s definitely something he wants. Even if he’s now painfully aware of the fact that there’s something else he wants even more.

“Personal space, Bokuto-san,” Keiji manages to croak out with the last gasp of air in his lungs.

Bokuto lets him go and steps back. “I’m sorry! I’m just so excited! You said yes!”

“Do I ever tell you no?” Keiji murmurs, more to himself than to Bokuto.

\+ + +

That afternoon, Keiji finds himself cornered during warm-up stretches by Konoha and Komi.

“So,” Konoha says with a wide smirk. “We saw you and Bokuto chatting behind the gym earlier.”

“Spying, Konoha-san?” Keiji asks dryly. “I would say I expected better from you but I wouldn’t make that mistake.”

Komi cackles at his friend’s expense and Keiji raises and eyebrow. “Don’t think you’re excluded from that sentiment, Komi-san.”

“Whatever,” Komi says. “So. He finally asked you, huh?”

“Hm,” Keiji affirms.

“And you said yes?” Konoha asks. Both of them are staring at Keiji, strangely eager.

“I did,” he says slowly.

“Ha!” Konoha celebrates while Komi lets out a soft groan. “You owe me 1000 yen! Pay up!”

“Did you two… _bet_ on my response?” Keiji frowns, feeling as though he should probably be offended.

“Don’t be mad! We make bets on everything!” Komi says, like that makes it better.

“Besides,” Konoha goes on. “It was just a matter of time. Honestly, Bokuto’s been attached to you from day one.”

Keiji only hums his disapproval and doesn’t bother to correct them that _actually, it’s the other way around._

\+ + +

Three days later, Bokuto is late to the club room for afternoon practice. He hurriedly throws down his bag and starts to change, yanking on his tie.

“Why’re you late?” Sarukui asks. “Get lost on your way here?”

“No, ah,” Bokuto’s cheeks go a little pink. “I, uh. You know Amano Hana from class 2-4? She, uh. She confessed to me.” He scratches the back of his head with a bashful smile. “We’re going on a date this Saturday.”

Silence falls heavily over the club room. The other second years start shooting glances at Keiji. He swallows thickly and resists the urge to bury his face in his locker.

“Congratulations, Bokuto-san. I hope you have a good time.” He finishes putting on his shoes and rushes from the room, ignoring the bewildered looks from Konoha and Komi.

They catch up to him before he makes it to the gym.

“Akaashi-kun! Wait up,” Komi says, grabbing his arm to get him to stop.

“Are you… okay?” Konoha asks, brow furrowed.

“I’m fine,” Keiji says, keeping his face carefully blank. There’s no way they know how he feels. How could they possibly know how he feels? “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, aren’t you and Bokuto…” Komi starts, exchanging another loaded look with Konoha. 

“We thought…” Konoha continues. “Didn’t he just ask you out?”

Keiji feels his cheeks heating up. It makes him feel both better and worse that he wasn’t alone in his stupidity, that he wasn’t the only one who presumed Bokuto was going to ask him a different kind of question the other day.

“No, Konoha-san. He did not,” Keiji says, relieved that his voice doesn’t crack and betray him. “He only asked me to be Vice Captain next year. It seems you have misunderstood.”

Konoha lets out a soft, “Oh.”

“Ah, right,” Komi says, exchanging another worried glance with Konoha. “Sorry, Akaashi-kun.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Komi-san,” Keiji says. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go warm-up.”

He turns around quickly and hurries into the gym, thankful for once that today they’re working on conditioning, which means running lots and lots of laps. It makes it easier to avoid talking to Bokuto, easier to avoid the way the others keep watching him with concern stitched into their expressions.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t avoid seeing the exchange of money as Konoha returns Komi’s 1000 yen in the clubroom when practice ends.

\+ + +

Bokuto has a girlfriend, and Keiji is trying very hard not to let it show how much he hates that.

Bokuto is happy. That’s what matters. _She_ makes him happy. So Keiji can’t hate her. He just hates this clenching feeling in his chest that happens whenever he thinks about her.

Bokuto stops coming to the roof for lunch with Keiji and the rest of the volleyball team. And honestly Keiji’s not _that_ bothered about it because he still gets to see Bokuto at practice in the mornings and after school. But then she starts showing up to watch their practices. She claps and cheers for him, and Bokuto basks in her words of praise, beaming at her every time he hits a good spike.

Keiji tries not to think too much about how Bokuto used to look at _him_ like that after every good spike. Maybe he should’ve been a little more generous with his praise. Maybe if he had, Bokuto’s eyes would still be on him.

One afternoon, as Keiji walks to the gym, he sees Bokuto and his girlfriend together, standing close and talking in low voices. He doesn’t want to spy, but he can’t help but notice the strained tension between them—her hands on her hips, his folded tightly over his chest. They must be arguing. Keiji averts his eyes and hurries away.

Even if he hadn’t seen them, he would’ve known something was wrong the moment Bokuto walked into the clubroom. He’s quiet, unsmiling, shoulders slumped. He looks about thirty seconds away from falling deep into dejected mode.

Keiji lingers in the clubroom after he finishes getting changed, waiting for the others to clear out so it’s just the two of them before he asks in a low voice, “Are you alright, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto makes an indecipherable grunting noise by way of response.

Keiji regrets his next words even before they leave his lips. “You know you can talk to me about it, if you want to.”

Bokuto makes another grunting noise, then just says, “Toss to me a lot today, okay ‘Kaashi?”

Keiji’s not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved with that response.

But later that night, when the rest of the team is long gone, at the end of their extended spiking practice, Bokuto takes him up on the offer to talk after all.

“Akaashi,” he says, voice uncharacteristically serious. “Do you think I spend too much time playing volleyball?”

Well, _there’s_ a loaded question.

“I think…” Keiji begins diplomatically. “We make time for the things that are important to us. And volleyball is important to you, right?”

He nods fervently.

“Then no, I wouldn’t say you spend _too much_ time playing volleyball, if you feel it’s time well-spent. But… there are other things that are important, too.” He swallows, and goes on, “Like relationships. So it’s about finding balance and making room in your life for all the important things.”

“Yeah…” Bokuto says, nodding along. “That makes sense. You’re really smart, Akaashi! How’d you get to be so smart?”

“It’s just common sense,” Keiji says, then he presses his lips together. He thinks, maybe, he has more to say.

Because Keiji knows he takes up a lot of Bokuto’s time. They do spiking practice for hours almost every night, and then they always walk home together, usually taking the long way, hitting up the convenience store for snacks and drinks, stopping by the park to sit on the swings while they eat steamed meat buns and talk about anything and everything.

And maybe… maybe it’s time he lets Bokuto go. Maybe it’s time for him to be a little less selfish and a little more of a good friend. Maybe it’s time for him to make a sacrifice, for the greater good of Bokuto’s happiness.

“If you’d like to spend more time with Amano-san, we can always cut back on our extended spiking practices.”

Bokuto lets out a scandalized gasp, as though Keiji suggested murder instead of slightly less time spent in the gym.

Keiji ignores him and goes on. “Every other day instead of every day. Or one hour instead of three. You could walk home with her instead of—“

“B-but I don’t want to do that!” Bokuto exclaims. “Then I wouldn’t get to see _you_ as much! And you’re important to me too, ‘Kaashi!”

Keiji ducks his head and sincerely hopes he isn’t blushing. “We see each other plenty in practice.”

“Don’t…” Bokuto’s voice sounds strangely small. “Don’t you want to spend time with me, too?”

“Of course I do, Bokuto-san. But… your relationship with Amano-san…” Keiji says, trying to keep his voice from betraying his true feelings. “It’s not the same.”

“Maybe not,” Bokuto says with a little frown.

For a moment, he seems to be deep in thought. Then he twirls the volleyball in his hands and looks up at Keiji with bright eyes. “One more toss?”

“Sure, Bokuto-san. One more toss.”

(Fourteen tosses later, they call it a night. On their meandering walk home, when they stop at the park to eat their onigiri, Keiji closes his eyes and lets himself sink into the moment, savoring the taste of the rice and pork, savoring the sound of Bokuto’s voice, and hoping beyond hope that it’s not the last night they have like this.)

(It’s not.)

(Not by a long shot.)

\+ + +

The following week, when the team is changing in the clubroom after morning practice, Sarukui strikes up a conversation with Bokuto.

“Hey Bo, how are things going with Hana-kun? I feel like we haven’t seen her hanging around practice lately.”

“Huh? Oh. We broke up.”

“What?” several people ask at once, and Keiji is grateful his voice gets drowned out in the chorus.

Bokuto shrugs. “I just didn’t really have enough time for her.” And then, in the same breath, he goes on to say, “Hey, ‘Kaashi, what are you doing on Saturday?”

“Um.” Keiji says, trying to ignore the way everyone is now looking curiously at him. “Studying, probably.”

“You got time to come over to my place for a bit?”

“W-why?”

“We gotta start planning the summer training camps, of course! It’s our job as Captain and Vice Captain!”

And Keiji should probably say something like, _those camps aren’t for four more months_ or _we could just plan at school_ or _shouldn’t the coach and team managers be involved, too?_

But he swallows back those sentences, and thinks that maybe, if Bokuto doesn’t want him to let go, then maybe it’s okay for Keiji to be a little selfish. Maybe it’s okay for him to hold onto Bokuto, for a little while longer.

“Alright, Bokuto-san. Just tell me when.”


	3. Chapter 3

Today is the day that everything changes.

Today, Bokuto is graduating. Today, Keiji is going to confess.

He’s been planning it for weeks. Or maybe months. Or maybe even from that moment he first saw Bokuto spiking and immediately decided that Fukuroudani was the school for him.

It doesn’t really matter when it all started. What matters is that today it’s all coming to an end.

Bokuto is going off to college, and Keiji is going to be left behind.

So. It’s now or never.

The afternoon passes in a dream-like blur. Bokuto accepts his diploma on stage, and Keiji wants to maybe cheer or maybe cry, but he settles on simply clapping along with the rest of the crowd. 

After the ceremony, the volleyball team meets up under the sakura trees to say their goodbyes, pink blossoms floating down around them as they exchange watery smiles. Keiji finds himself being dragged into the group photos with the third years, despite his protests.

“You’re an honorary third year,” Konoha tells him, ruffling his hair, and Keiji’s heart clenches. He’s going to miss them all so, so much.

Things wind down, and he ends up lingering behind as the others peel away from the group, heading off to family dinners and parties with their other friends. Eventually it’s just him and Bokuto, standing outside the gym like they’ve done so many times before.

“Toss for me, just for a little bit?” Bokuto asks through a sideways grin, and it’s so familiar and expected that it almost shatters Keiji’s heart when he realizes that this is likely the last time he’ll ever get to hear those words.

And Keiji should protest, should say something like, _we aren’t supposed to be in the gym_ or _we’re wearing our school uniforms_ or _you’re missing your own graduation party_. But the answer that leaves his lips is as familiar and expected as the question.

“Sure.”

(It’s maybe a bad sign that Keiji’s first official act as the new captain is to break about half a dozen rules regarding unauthorized gym use and improper footwear, but it’s their last night together, so it feels more than a little futile to start saying _no_ to Bokuto now.)

Keiji fumbles the first toss, his uniform jacket restricting the movement of his arms. Bokuto misses the second toss, his run-up too slow in his clunky loafers. But they get it right the third time. The ball leaves Keiji’s fingertips, arcing to just the right spot, and Bokuto’s hand slaps it down forcefully. A beautiful straight spike, landing hard in the back corner. It’s perfect, so perfect, and Keiji feels like crying.

Bokuto’s not even gone yet and Keiji is already _aching_ with how much he misses him.

“What’s wrong?” Bokuto asks, eyebrows creasing together when he sees Keiji’s face. “You’ve been real quiet today. Like, more than usual.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Liar,” Bokuto accuses through an easy grin. “I can practically hear you overthinking from here!”

Keiji sighs, needing a few seconds to find his voice. “Everything is changing,” he finally admits, fidgeting with his fingers. “You’re leaving.”

Bokuto lets out a huff of a laugh. “You make it sound so dramatic!” he says. “I’m still going to be in Tokyo! Things aren’t going to change _that_ much!” He steps a little closer, his voice gets a little quieter. “We’ll still see each other lots. We’ll still be friends… won’t we?”

Keiji hesitates, and because Bokuto has always been able to read him better than anyone else, of course the other boy instantly notices the shift in his demeanor. Bokuto gets quiet, waiting for an answer—waiting for a reassurance that Keiji can’t give.

“Akaashi?” An undercurrent of worry cuts through his voice.

Keiji steels himself. He can do this. He _has_ to do this. At the very least, he needs the closure.

“I don’t know if it’s possible for us to stay friends,” he says at last, his voice a soft whisper.

Bokuto goes completely still. “…’Kaashi?” he says again. Keiji musters the courage to meet his eyes, wide and gold and brimming with something that looks a lot like fear.

“I don’t know if you’ll still want to,” Keiji goes on, swallowing thickly and tugging on his fingers. “After I tell you that…”

One more deep breath.

“I’m in love with you, Bokuto-san.”

Silence has never seemed so loud as it does in this moment. The moment where everything changes. Like a chemical reaction—there’s no going back to the way things were before.

And then hands are on Keiji’s shoulders and he’s being pulled into a tight hug, pressed against Bokuto’s chest. Keiji closes his eyes and breathes out, relieved that at least he’s not being pushed away in disgust (not that he truly thought Bokuto would do something like that). But he can’t bring himself to return the hug, too tense and terrified to let himself hope.

“God, ‘Kaashi. You really had me worried for a second there!” Bokuto chuckles lowly, his body shaking against Keiji’s. He pulls away then, keeping his hands on Keiji’s shoulders and meeting his eyes. “Like did you really have to say it that way? That was so dramatic!”

“You’re not… bothered?” Keiji asks tentatively.

“Well, I’m a little bothered.”

Keiji looks down. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be! I had a whole speech planned! Oh, and a letter!” Bokuto’s hands leave his shoulders to fumble with something in his jacket pocket. “And you just had to go and beat me to it!” 

Keiji stares at the envelope being shoved in front of his face. It’s decorated with a small sketch of two owls huddled together and the flap is sealed with a little golden heart sticker. For a moment, all he can do is blink at it in confusion. He’s seen envelopes like this before—seen Bokuto receive dozens of them over the years, and he’s even received a few himself.

But never in his wildest daydreams did he expect one _from Bokuto_. He gave up on the foolish hope of Bokuto returning his feelings back in his first year. And even then, when he thought for a second that Bokuto might possibly maybe confess, he never thought it’d be with a _letter_. Bokuto hates writing and reading and anything that requires him to be still for more than ten seconds. So in all the scenarios he ran, all the reactions he considered Bokuto having to his confession, Keiji never _ever_ considered _this_.

All he can say is, “What?”

“You can read it later—I’ll tell you the short version now.” Bokuto lowers the envelope and raises a gentle hand to Keiji’s jaw, tilting his face up so their eyes meet.  “I love you too, Akaashi Keiji.”

“What.”

“Oh! And—will you be my boyfriend?”

“What.”

“Aghaaashieee!!” Bokuto whines, shaking Keiji’s shoulders a little. “Say something besides _what_!”

“Um.”

“Say _yes_.”

“Yes,” Keiji manages to get out when his brain finally catches up. The words feel unreal spilling from his lips. “Yes, I’ll… I’ll be your boyfriend.”

Bokuto’s smile brightens, his eyes shining. “Does that mean I can kiss you now? ‘Cause I’ve been wanting to for a real long time.”

“Yes,” Keiji says again, sounding breathy and desperate and not even caring.

And then he can’t say anything else, because his lips are otherwise occupied.

Bokuto Koutarou kisses the same way he plays volleyball—like he’s pouring his entire soul into it. He’s completely dedicated, and a little rough, and he does it with such eager intensity that it leaves Keiji dizzy, breathless. And much like with volleyball, all Keiji can do is hold on to Bokuto and try to keep up.

(They are very, _very_ late to Bokuto’s graduation party.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote another fic [Call Me Koutarou](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25670959) that takes place just before this chapter. Not necessary to read first, but if you want a little glimpse of Keiji & Koutarou's first year together, that's the fic for you :)

It’s easy to love Bokuto Koutarou.

But it’s hard to love him from a distance.

They see each other on weekends. Most weekends, anyways. Something like seven days a month. Sometimes more, often less.

It’s not enough.

Keiji’s third year of high school passes slowly. The weekdays feel like a blur of gray; his weekends bursting with gold. Somewhere along the line, his _Bokuto-san_ s are gradually replaced with _Koutarou_ s. They’re only separated by an hour’s worth of travel, but they’re both so _busy_ , and it’s hard. When there’s not enough time for visits or phone calls, Keiji finds himself reading and re-reading Koutarou’s confession letter, again and again and again.

(It’s starting to get wrinkled and faded. He should really get it laminated.)

When spring comes around, there’s something even sweeter than the success of graduating: Keiji gets to stay a full week of summer break at Koutarou’s apartment before he has to start packing for college. Koutarou’s college. They’re going to be attending the same school; they’re going to be _together_ again.

Koutarou is strangely quiet during their first dinner together. He squeezes Keiji’s hand, holding onto him tightly as they walk back from the restaurant, but Keiji can’t help but feel that something is… off.

When they get back to the apartment and Koutarou is still quiet, Keiji has to ask.

“Kou? What’s going on?”

Koutarou lets out a breath. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

Keiji swallows. “Is this a good talk or a bad talk?” he asks, half-joking. It’s mostly just to put his own anxiety to rest.

But then Koutarou says, “A little of both, I guess.” And there’s something sad about his eyes, and just like that Keiji’s anxiety is shooting up up and away, like a bird breaking free of its cage.

“Oh. Okay. Let’s talk.”

The settle onto the couch, their knees just barely touching. Keiji fidgets with his fingers and Koutarou gets right to the point.

“I got an offered a contract to play for a really awesome team.”

“Kou, that’s great. Congratulations.”

That must be the good. Keiji waits for him to continue. He knows there’s more.

“So, I’m dropping out of college.”

“Oh,” Keiji says, more relieved than anything, because honestly that’s not _that_ bad. So they won’t be in university together. Koutarou’s never really liked school anyways; his heart has always been on the court.

Keiji grabs his hand, gives him a reassuring squeeze. But Koutarou is still frowning, biting at his lip. And Keiji realizes his relief was premature a half second before Koutarou continues.

“The team is overseas. America. I’d be leaving Japan for at least a year.”

And there it is. The bad. The really, really bad.

“Oh,” Keiji says again, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of him.

Because he knows what comes next.

This is the part where they break up.

They’re already miserable with the distance when they’re barely an hour apart, both of them sick with missing one another. What hope would they have in separate countries with an ocean stretching between them?

“I know we talked about this, and we agreed that we didn’t want to do the long distance thing anymore…”

Keiji holds his breath, holds himself together even though he feels like he’s ripping apart at the seams.

“And I’m sorry, I know it’s completely awful of me to do this to you, but—”

Keiji is crying. He doesn’t know when he started, but his cheeks are warm and wet and his vision is a little blurry so he supposes he must be crying.

“Will you… wait for me?”

Keiji chokes on a shuddering breath. He has to lean forward to bury his face in his hands.

“Keiji, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know it’s a lot to ask, I’m being so selfish, but please, _please_ —”

Keiji gives a little shake of his head and Koutarou goes quiet. He takes a moment to collect himself, to answer through his fingers in a small voice. “I… I thought you were breaking up with me.”

“What?!” he sounds horrified. “No! Why—why would I do that?”

“Because it’s hard!” Keiji says, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand as he sits up. “It’s _so_ hard to be away from you, to not be able to see you, and touch you—and most long distance relationships _fail_ and—”

“…Do _you_ want to break up?”

“No! No. God, no. But…” Keiji makes a vague motion with his hands.

“I know,” Koutarou says. “I know. Come here.” He pulls Keiji into his arms. They stay like that, huddled together, quiet for a long moment.

“This is going to be _awful,_ ” Keiji says at last, his voice muffled against Koutarou’s chest. “But breaking up would be _worse_. And I don’t—I _can’t_ imagine my life without you. I don’t even want to try.”

“I know,” Koutarou says again, murmuring into his hair. “It’s the same for me.” He holds Keiji tight, and after another moment he adds, “You know I would stay, if you asked me to.”

“And you know I would never ask that of you.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I know.”

Keiji lets out a shaky breath. “Then we’ll make this work,” he says. “Because it’s not impossible, right? It’s just hard.”

Koutarou swallows, and asks in a low voice. “You really believe that?”

Keiji leans back a little so he can look into Koutarou’s eyes, so bright and kind and full of love.

He never stood a chance.

“Yes,” Keiji answers firmly, because for him, there is no alternative. “I really do.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler warning for the manga chapter 401!
> 
> Also, this scene takes place immediately following my other fic, [The Click / Someday](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25244674). It’s not ~necessary~ to read that one first, but I’d definitely recommend doing so!

The MSBY Black Jackals defeat the Schweiden Adlers 3 sets to 1. It’s a pretty great way to start the season.

After the game, Keiji manages to successfully ditch Udai, even if he was a little less successful at keeping his secret relationship, well, _secret_. The mangaka is a bit too perceptive for Keiji’s liking.

But the point is: he gets Koutarou all to himself, all night long.

And they had plans. Keiji did research on the train ride over. He narrowed down a list of bars and restaurants in Kokubuncho for him and Koutarou to check out, and he even mapped a potential route on his phone. But when Koutarou arrives at the hotel room and starts kissing him…

Well.

Plans change.

They spend the evening rotating between the bed, the shower, and the short dining table in front of the window. (Keiji’s research doesn’t go _completely_ to waste—one of the restaurants on his list happens to deliver.)

They’re wrapped in fluffy bathrobes, drinking canned beer and eating gyutan, enjoying the view of the city at night. Though to be honest, Keiji is enjoying the view of Koutarou even more. His hair is down, still a little damp from their shower, and it makes him look softer, younger. And Keiji doesn’t regret one bit that they stayed in their room instead of going out. What he would give for every night to be this perfect…

“So,” Koutarou announces between bites. “I’m gonna start training for the Olympics soon.”

“I know, Kou. I literally interviewed you about this earlier today.”

“Okay okay but—there were some things you didn’t ask!”

“I thought our questions were fairly thorough.”

“Well, then, I guess I have a question for you.”

“Hm?”

“You know the team is based in Tokyo, yeah?” he says, and now he’s grinning even wider. “We’re gonna be in the same city again.”

“I’m aware,” Keiji says. It’s an understatement. Some days that knowledge is the only thing that gets him through. The same city—finally, _finally._

“And like, housing is taken care of by the association. The team stays in this huge building downtown—it’s a really nice place, lotsa windows, right next door to the gym.”

“It sounds nice.”

“Yeah, it’s awesome! It’s just missing one thing.” He pauses, waits for Keiji to meet his gaze before he says, “ _You_.”

Keiji can feel himself blushing, so he rolls his eyes to balance it out. “I highly doubt I would be allowed to stay there.”

“Yeah, no, I already asked. They said no.”

“That’s fine,” he says, swallowing back the rise of disappointment. “We’ll still be able to see each other a lot more.”

“But that’s not enough!” Koutarou says, the beginnings of a whine edging into his voice. “I want to see you more than more. I want to live with you, Keiji.”

“Koutarou…” is all he manages to say, because he’s starting to feel that ache in his heart. Keiji doesn’t like to think about things he can’t have. If he does, the small ember of _wanting_ that’s constantly burning in his chest could flare up and turn him into ash.

“And I haven’t figured out all the details yet,” Koutarou rambles on. “I need your help with that. But we should get an apartment together. Your office and the gym aren’t that far apart, we could find a place in between, meet in the middle.”

“But… your team. Shouldn’t you stay with them in the dorms? It’ll be harder for you if you have to commute—”

“Keiji. Nothing is harder than being away from you. The thought of seeing you everyday, waking up with you every morning and going to sleep with you every night—God, Keiji, I want that more than I want a gold medal.”

Keiji finds himself shaking his head, forever a traitor to his own heart. “I’m not going to get in the way of your dream—”

“You know, for someone so smart you sure say some dumb things!” Koutarou interrupts. “You should know by now that I have two dreams—gold, and _you_ —and I’m gonna get ‘em both.”  Keiji opens his mouth to protest again but Koutarou cuts him off before he can start. “And I’m gonna keep rebutting all your rebuttals, so stop tryin to argue with me and just say yes.”

He sets down his chopsticks so he can grab both of Keiji’s hands in both of his. “Do you want to live with me?”

The spark of wanting in Keiji’s chest ignites, catches fire. He’s never going to be able to snuff it out now.

“Yes,” he says. “I want to live with you.”

Koutarou beams. “Then it’s that easy.”

And maybe it is. Maybe he’s right.

After all, loving Koutarou is the easiest thing Keiji has ever done in his entire life.


	6. Chapter 6

Akaashi Keiji is nervous.

Nervous in a way that transcends typical game-day jitters. Nervous in a way that feels bigger than his body, like his chest is too full and too empty at the same time.

He’s never been so anxious about a volleyball game before—and it’s not even his game. It’s Koutarou’s. The biggest game of Koutarou’s life, played out on the world’s largest stage.

And if everything goes according to plan, Koutarou will achieve both of his dreams today.

Gold, and Keiji.

Keiji can’t do much about the first dream. That’s on Koutarou and the rest of his team.

But the second dream? That’s all up to Keiji and the small velvet ring box in his pocket.

Oh, and the banner. Can’t forget about the banner. That’s kind of the key item here. Big enough to be used as a blanket; black and white and gold, and marked with four words:

WILL YOU MARRY ME?

He has a longer speech prepared, of course, one where he goes through all the reasons he wants to marry Koutarou. But that’s for later, when they have more privacy and enough time to make it through the _very_ extensive list. A list he started even before they moved in together, before they went public with their relationship. A list he started long before same-sex marriage was legalized in Japan.

He thinks, probably, he’s been working on this list somewhere in the back of his head since the first time he saw Koutarou play.

The game itself is somehow very long, and also much too short.

Bokuto Koutarou scores the final match point with a cross spike so sharp it could slice someone clean in half.

Japan wins gold, and Keiji has never been more proud in his whole life.

Also nervous. He’s never been more nervous before, either.

The team starts to line up to thank the audience for attending.

“Showtime,” says Kenma in a low voice.

Keiji recruited him to help tie the banner to the railing since that’s a two-person job (Kuroo was able to score them both some _excellent_ tickets right near the front) but when he notices the camera in Kenma’s hands, he thinks maybe he should regret this decision. Then again, it’s not like Kenma is going to be the only one filming. There are cameras everywhere.

The whole world is watching.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Keiji says, clenching the rolled-up banner with both hands, knuckles going white. “Why am I doing this?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but Kenma still supplies an answer.

“Because you love him or whatever.”

“Right. That.”

Here goes nothing. 

Keiji waits until Koutarou is looking his way, then he unfurls the banner, lets it drape down over the railing, swaying gently as it falls into place.

When Koutarou sees it he freezes—completely, utterly still. His eyes go comically wide. He starts to run forward then suddenly stops, looks back over his shoulder, looks up at Keiji in the stands. Then he turns around again and runs back to his teammates, arms flailing as he gestures at them frantically.

It’s not quite the reaction Keiji expected. He kind of thought he’d have gotten a shouted _YES_ by now. Or at the very least a loud drawn out exclamation of his name with a dozen extra vowels squeezed into it.

Every single passing second lasts approximately three years.

Then Koutarou is running back toward the crowd with a few teammates in tow, and Keiji doesn’t understand why until they’re helping to boost him up so he can climb over the railing. There’s no way this is allowed, but the security guards are too far away to intervene, and once Koutarou sets his mind to something, well, there’s little anyone can do to stop him.

Keiji takes a step back as Bokuto Koutarou rises into sight. His eyes are bright and shining, but his lips are pushed together, and Keiji feels a sharp pang of worry that maybe the big public proposal wasn’t quite the right move.

He’s supposed to say the words ‘will you marry me’ out loud now—that was the plan. But what he asks instead is, “Why are you pouting?”

“Because _I_ was gonna ask _you_!” Koutarou all but growls as he swings his legs over the railing. He lands heavily on his feet and starts forward, advancing on Keiji. “I got a ring—it’s in my locker! Keiji, you gotta stop beating me to these things!”

Keiji lets out a huff—half relieved, half amused. “It’s not a competition,” he says, then he smirks a little. “Not a very even one, anyways.”

“Keiji!” Koutarou is standing right in front of him now. “I was gonna do it later, when it was just us, because I know that’s what you’d like! But then you had to go and do _this_.” He’s gazing into Keiji’s eyes with a look of pure wonderment, like he still doesn’t believe this is happening.

“Because I know it’s what _you’d_ like.”

“Yeah, but still! Unfair, Keiji. Really unfair!”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you mad enough to say no?”

“Keiji!” he says with a horrified little gasp. “You’re so mean! I love you so much!” He moves forward like he’s going in for an embrace, but Keiji holds up a hand to stop him.

“You still haven’t given me an answer, Koutarou.”

“Yes! God! Yes yes yes y—”

Keiji grabs him by the collar and kisses him to shut him up, swallowing his last _yes_. Koutarou wraps his arms around Keiji, dipping him low and kissing him back like he’s pouring his entire soul into it.

When they break apart, they’re both crying, and they’re both smiling. Keiji is only vaguely aware of the crowd screaming all around them. The noise seems somehow muted, like they’re in their own little world. He touches his forehead to Koutarou’s and says in a quiet voice, just for him, “I’m sorry for stealing your moment.”

Koutarou grins, practically glowing. “You can make it up to me.”

“Yes,” Keiji hums in agreement. “I plan to spend the rest of my life doing just that.”

\+ + +

A year and a half later, someone else asks Koutarou and Keiji a life-changing question.

(They both say “I do”)

**Author's Note:**

> i just *clenches fist* love bokuaka so much!!!
> 
> a note on being canon compliant: we're just gonna pretend that same-sex marriage gets legalized in japan. we're also gonna pretend i know how sports things work. please understand that when i mention bokuto getting a contract to play overseas or the "association" supposedly "taking care of" housing for the olympic team, i truly have no idea what i'm talking about.
> 
> also furudate-senpai text messaged me and told me that the bokuaka proposal scene was supposed to happen just like this in 402 but there simply wasn't enough room, so. it's canon. just trust me on this guys.
> 
> and thanks for reading!!! i really really appreciate all the kudos, comments, and shares!!!!
> 
> follow me on twitter maybe - [@kazdolyn](http://www.twitter.com/kazdolyn)


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